


come marching home

by disgruntled_lesbian



Series: please give zuko a hug [8]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Hair Washing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sokka (Avatar)-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25198390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disgruntled_lesbian/pseuds/disgruntled_lesbian
Summary: after the war ends, sokka dreams of black snow and his father’s body floating lifeless in the water. except now, the dead change. some nights it’s zuko’s body, limp on the floor; others it’s yue, face down in the water; suki, toph, dad, katara -- it feels like it never ends, thank you universe.[traumatized!sokka has a nightmare]set in the same timeline as the rest of "please give zuko a hug"
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: please give zuko a hug [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1784050
Comments: 50
Kudos: 1265





	come marching home

after the war ends, sokka dreams of black snow and his father’s body floating lifeless in the water. they're the same dreams that have haunted him for years, except now, the dead change. some nights it’s zuko’s body, limp on the floor; others it’s yue, face down in the water; suki, toph, dad, katara -- _it feels like it never ends, thank you universe_.

sokka wakes up drenched in sweat, gasping for breath. for a moment, he’s not sure where he is -- scrabbles for his boomerang, his sword, anything -- before he’s able to focus on the red embroidered curtains in the windows and the sound of zuko’s exhales and inhales next to him. _he’s safe he’s safe they’re all safe_ he chants in his head, burying his face in his hands. _safe, safe, safe --_

it’s the middle of the night, and sokka knows he isn’t getting back to sleep. instead, he rises from their bed, leaving zuko asleep curled up around a pillow. sokka wakes up from his nightmares alone -- he learned from a young age to cry silently; to keep his mouth shut when something hurts. after dad left, he was hyper aware that he was the one man between their village and any threat -- he didn’t get to cry like katara did, saving his deep shaking sobs until late in the night.he holds zuko through his nightmares, but he can't imagine asking for the same. _some lessons just never left him,_ he thinks. 

one benefit of dating the fire lord that he will _never_ give up in a million years, is the absolutely massive tub in the bathroom connected to their chambers. whenever toph and her demolition team make it to this side of the palace, sokka plans on making sure at least the tub is saved. sokka leaves his sleep clothes on the floor in a pile, and sinks into the water. the entire bathroom is filled with steam, and sokka leans against the cool wall of the tub, resting his head on the edge.

he feels nauseous and dizzy from the nightmares, and his leg aches like it never healed quite right. katara tells him every time she visits that there’s nothing wrong with it, but that doesn’t mean that it stops hurting. 

he dunks his head under water, tears burning at the corners of his eyes before coming up for air. he still can’t close his eyes without seeing death, so he floats in the water staring up at the tiled ceiling. the water eventually turns cold, and he drains the tub before refilling it with hot water. in the distance, he can hear the third hour of the morning bell being rung and he groans, sinking back into the water. 

zuko shuffles into the bathroom, yawning. his hair is down -- and wow, royal bedhead is not something sokka thought he would ever see, and it never gets old -- and he’s wrapped up in sokka’s robe, which makes a pretty picture. sokka splashes the water a little as he moves to the edge of the tub, and zuko looks up, startled. 

“hey,” zuko says, smiling softly in sokka’s direction. “i wondered where you went.”

sokka opens his mouth and nothing comes out. he wants to scream, wants to pretend that he’s fine, that he hasn’t been in the bath for half the night because all he sees are dead bodies and black snow when he closes his eyes and _he can’t he can’t --_

zuko seems to know what he's trying to say, eye softening as he looks at sokka. “do you want me to wash your hair?” zuko asks, shuffling over to sit on the side of the tub. sokka feels stupid and selfish for wanting it — he’s fine, he doesn’t need to talk, he’s supposed to take care of _himself, zuko_ , he — 

“yeah,” he whispers, moving to let zuko put a rolled up towel down on the ledge of the bath. he leans back, resting his head on the towel. zuko pulls his hair back, fastening it with a leather tie before rolling up the sleeves of his robe. he leans down to kiss sokka’s forehead, and sokka --

breaks. 

he tries to fight back the tears, but zuko’s gentle hands in his hair make it hard to keep from crying. he sobs, quiet shaking sobs that wrack his body. someone makes a keening noise and it takes him a moment to realize it’s him. zuko’s hands are rubbing small circles on his back, the only thing keeping sokka grounded in his body, and all sokka can do is try to breathe like he always tells zuko to do. 

“it’s the same dream over and over.” he whispers, as zuko brushes through his wet hair with his fingers and a sweet smelling soap. “and i can’t stop it.” zuko hums under his breath, slowing his ministrations to massage sokka’s scalp. there’s a certain ritual to this -- although normally, sokka is the one gently combing through zuko’s hair -- washing away the last of a nightmare. sokka lets zuko coax him up so his boyfriend can use a cup to rinse his hair, a hand protecting his face from any soapy runoff. 

he’s not sure how he ends up out of the tub and wrapped in a towel, but zuko wipes the tear tracks from his face and sokka collapses, exhaustion hitting him like a rock. zuko wraps him in a robe, and he leans against zuko for support as they stumble back to bed.

zuko curls up next to sokka under the blankets, wrapping around him like he never wants to let go, _like sokka’s worth something even though he feels so shaky_. 

in the morning, sokka will stumble through his day, leaning heavily on sarcasm and jokes to keep everyone at arms length before he collapses. in the privacy of their rooms, he'll scream-cry in zuko's arms, the weight on his shoulders too much to bear. but for now, he closes his eyes and drifts into an uneasy sleep. 


End file.
